Dance
by Shadow-The Black Queen
Summary: She remembered being innocent, but vaguely. She remembered a time when she didn't wake up biting back a scream, but only by the farthest stretch. She traced the scar lightly, the brand still burning bright on her chest. Singling her out. Waiting for them.
1. Home is where the heart is

"First time I heard the pop of a gun? Easy, I was five. First time I shot? You need harder questions, I was six. First time I got caught in cross fire? Simple, eight, got caught between two gangs; still have a scar on my shoulder too. When did I join a gang? I was eleven. First time I was in a shootout? No comment. You want me to tell you my affiliation? No way in Hell." The girl clammed up like the gang-girl she was. The officers stared in frustration, she was new, they'd never even heard of this girl before now; which boded very badly for the officers if she was telling the truth and she had been in a gang since she was eleven.

"What do you do for the gang? Are you a prostitute, do you dance?" The girl was glaring at him like she was hoping for him to burn. The girl immediately turned her body away from the detective. The group behind the one way window sighed in defeat, once a suspect's body language closed off there was no way you get information out of them. They watched as the girl pulled out a cigarette from her pocket.

All the officers watched as she turned her body from their line of sight for a second and settled into the corner blowing smoke towards the ceiling.

"Can we hold her?" the squad captain asked looking at the calm girl before him.

"No, she gave us answers, but nothing that would incriminate her. For all we know this girl doesn't even exist, no name, no age , her fingerprints weren't on any database, we don't even have a nickname to search; even if we did I doubt she'd be on any list we have, she's too smart for that. I mean think about it, we wouldn't have even found her if a double homicide hadn't happened next door." The captain walked into the interrogation room and looked at the girl, really it was a shame, she was too pretty to be wasting her life.

"You're free to go." She stood up and smiled at him, the cigarette held between her fingers delicately.

"Next time you want to gamble on something, I suggest cards so much easier." With that she walked out of the interrogation room and out of the police station like nothing had happened.

A black car pulled up beside the girl as she walked down the street. "Coming Charm?" the girl in the drivers seat asked, smirking.

"Yup." Hermione answered flicking her cigarette butt down a gutter grate and into the sewers. "Let's get out of here Cynthia." the sleek door slammed behind her and the car took off, a silver sports car and a shiny red convertible keeping pace just behind and to the right of it.

The strobe lights flashed as the bass rumbled through the floor, the music was deafening, alcohol was pouring liberally. Hermione knew better than to accept any, she would be exhausted in the morning anyway, no need to add a hangover to the mix. She banished thoughts of Hogwarts and the train tomorrow with a simple roll of her eyes, preferring to lose herself in the mob and the burning guitar.

She growled as light hit her eyes the next morning, her alarm sounding a backup incase the sun decided to sleep in today. With a groan, Hermione heaved herself out of her bed and into the small kitchen where a cup of purple liquid sat waiting for her on the counter. With a grimace she quickly downed the bad-tasting potion, sighing in contentment as the headache that had been building behind her eyes disappeared and she felt much needed energy pour into her tiered mind and body. Gratefully she picked up the decanter that sat, sealed, next to the cup, a years supply of the pick-me-up all filed away into a compact little bottle; she put the decanter into her little shoulder bag along with a shot glass, both disappearing into the seemingly endless depths. With a flick of her fingers her already packed trunk shrunk down so she could tuck it away in her bag as well. One last thing to do before she left. She silently slipped into Aaren's room and kissed him quickly, knowing full well he had just gotten home, exhausted from work, and poured her glass of potion.

She disappeared with a sharp crack, appearing in an alley just outside of Kings Cross Station. She hurried into the station and to platform nine and three-quarters, managing to board the crimson engine just as it sounded its whistle and pulled away. She found an empty compartment and collapsed across one of the benches, allowing herself to slip into blissful sleep as the effects of the pick-me-up wore off.

A piercing sound filled the compartment, waking her instantly, Hermione answered her phone the tiredness of earlier completely gone.

"We might be crashing this year, the police are getting way to interested in us, nosing into things they shouldn't be." Aaren said without even a hello.

"Good morning to you too." Hermione said, attempting not to laugh. Aaren did laugh.

"Sorry, Charm. Morning. How was the concert last night?" He asked, seeming to calm down a little.

"It was amazing! Thanks for the pick-me-up this morning though I needed it. How was work?'

"Same as usual, hard but rewarding we…" He was cut off by shouting at the door. "Shit, gotta go. Love you." He said hurriedly, Hermione heard the distinctive crash of a breaking door.

"Stay safe." She said as he hung up. She locked the compartment and drew the shades so she could change into her school robes. Hermione winced as she stretched the new, shiny pink, scar tissue on her shoulder. After she had donned her robes she sat back down and pulled a book out of her bag, settling in for the remainder of the train ride.

Aaren was running attempting to stay off police radar, ducking into alleys and up fire escapes, gathering the rest of the gang. They followed without objections, they knew it was safer to run when people started getting nosey, easier just to have a grab bag ready so they could run. Untraceable, offshore accounts didn't hurt either. The eight foot chain-link fence greeted them, without hesitation Aaren cupped his hands so he could toss Cynthia and Razael over, Michael just climbed the fence, Matthew was already waiting on the other side along with Seth the cars already running. With one last look back, Aaren too climbed the fence, jumped into his red Lamborghini, following the others example by hitting the gas, and disappeared in to thin air.

Tires squealed in protest as the cars reappeared and were braked, Aaren spinning his 180 degrees to face the others. With a nod, all the cars were shrunk and put into bags or pockets, backpack were dawned and duffels were picked up, with practiced ease the group walked up the hidden path and into the dilapidated house.

The sorting had been shorter this year than in years past, mothers were reluctant to relinquish their children even if Voldemort was dead. Fear had spread like disease, and like every fever, it must get worse before it could get better. Hermione was tiered, she was so tiered. Dumbledores' speech had passed in one ear and out the other, she just wanted to sleep. The charms on her bracelet began to heat up, an indicator that the others were close, Hermione smiled.

This year was gonna be fun.

A.N. Here it is even though I haven't finished Changeling, I felt like I should put this out here.


	2. Stone Walls

That's right, ya sukas, dance. C'mon, follow me." Hermione hissed her fingers flying over her keyboard. With each tap of her fingers money transferred bank accounts, what she assumed were FBI agents dancing after her. "Razael, they're following. Take 'em down." Hermione invited the smiling girl on the other end of the web-cam.

"With pleasure, Charm!" Razael replied with gusto, a single line of code and the trackers were chasing their tails. "Was there a reason for this?" Razael asked giggling slightly as the adrenalin buzzed through her veins.

"No, I got bored." Hermione answered with an adrenalin fueled high putting her in a better mood than she'd been in for the past week. "I can only pretend to be the good girl for so long. You of all people should know this, I just like to see them jump." Hermione said smiling. "I'll see you guys soon as I can. Gotta go, class'll be out soon and muggle stuff isn't supposed to work."

"Toodles, miss ya!" The purple eyed girl said, spinning in her chair and blowing a kiss to her 'sister'. "Cynthia says that when you get back we're all playing Black Jack."

"That is the bad part about living in the magical world all year round, no legal poker places." Hermione said giggling before she shut down her laptop and stashed it back inside her shoulder bag. Her giddiness allowing her to finish her homework in record time. The next few weeks finished in a few days, her body begged for a drag on a cigarette, a shot of alcohol, a drag race, even a broomstick would do. She just needed the feel of weightless freedom, she felt too trapped behind stone walls.

Before she could stop herself she found her hand already searching her bag for her smokes. Urge overriding reason she pulled one of her to use one of Michael's more endearing terms, death sticks out. She wasn't a chain smoker, and she cast healing charms over herself after every cigarette the youngest member of the group couldn't seem to get over the whole not having the 'family' anymore. She couldn't blame him, there was a reason they didn't like being called a gang, they weren't a gang, they were a family. Think mafia meets really screwed up, adrenaline junkie kids. Of course the mafia used a little more violence than they did, they preferred using brains to brawn.

She stood at the open window, head leaning against the stone as a warm breeze played across her face and through her hair. Exhale, breath in a second lungful of the smoke; think about everything, exhale, inhale. It was her pattern, her mantra, this is how she calmed herself.

With a sigh she released the lungful of smoke she had been unconsciously holding. Hermione watched as the smoke she had exhaled dissipated into the air disappearing into the wide sky. It made her feel so small, a feeling she never welcomed; especially not when her Aaren was nowhere to comfort her, the feeling of aloneness and being so small and worthless always reminded her of her mother. Worthless woman she had been, of course Hermione had loved her, it was in a child to love their parents unconditionally, but love and respect are in two completely different categories for a reason. Hermione's mother had been a drinker, reckless and immature, oftentimes drinking until she simply blacked out. She wasn't a mean drunk, not by any means, Hermione's mother was such a sweet woman, she wasn't a mean drunk. But she was a mean junkie, when she didn't get her fix she went from loving mother to raging whirlwind, tearing apart anything and everything in the house in search of money to take to her dealer. She had overdosed, years ago, Hermione had been about nine. She had moved in with her aunt, Jane Granger, a dentist who lived in London. She lived with her until she had received her Hogwarts letter, even then returning faithfully once a week every summer, so her aunt wouldn't think she had died. But in everyway, she was very much a back alley girl, preferring the dirty, dangerous streets of New York, to anywhere else. She hated being confined, hated not being able to run.

For some reason her mind chose her last lungful of smoke to be when she remembered what she had told Michael all those years ago; in our world there is no right and wrong, no black and white, most of the time its just shades of grey, a million shades of grey. And eventually everything away from the family kinda fades into the background until the only things left are, living and dead, and revenge for the fallen. Because once you're in little brother, there really is no out. Michael had taken it in stride, shrugging and claiming that the family was all he needed, nothing else really mattered outside it anyway.

With a groan she tossed the cigarette butt into the fire, watching her one comfort literally go up in smoke. Ironic. The portrait hole cracked open a second later, allowing all the other fifth, sixth, and seventh years to spill into the common room. Chattering and laughing like hyenas, with a hiss of pain as she threw her book bag over her shoulder, Hermione took her leave from the crowded room.

The breath she had held in case someone had detected the scarlet cigarette on her breath was finally free, sweeping from her slightly glossed lips with an almost silent incantation. The smile on her lips was forced, the scent of cigarettes that clung to her reminded her too much of home, she missed them so much…

"Welcome class." Professor McGonagall said in that lilting accent of hers, "Before we begin I have an announcement from Professor Dumbledore. Due to the death of Voldemort the Headmaster has decided that sixth and seventh years be allowed to go to Hogsmead every weekend, and may stay all weekend if they're family has a home there. However, all students must all return before dinner on Sunday. Have a good time tomorrow." Minerva smiled, reacting to the pure joy on her students faces, they had lived in fear since first year for some of them, she figured they deserved a little bit of joy. "Now, on with today's lesson. Today we will be transforming toucans into pillows."

Hermione's mind switched from adrenaline junkie to perfect student; her quill moving close to the speed of light, keeping up with her mind, adding or subtracting things here and there to make the spell better and more effective. With ease she turned the toucan into a gorgeous multicolored throw pillow, earning both praise from McGonagall and points for her house. She smiled content for the moment, her wand being flipped aimlessly between her fingers as if it were knife, occasionally trailing black and cobalt sparks, happy as she was at this moment, she couldn't wait for tomorrow, she had to get out from behind these walls it was starting to affect her brain.

A.N. a little ranting I know, please please tell me what you think.


	3. Familly

Hermione was exhausted, she hadn't been able to sleep well, she'd been too excited to leave these damnable walls. With a gasp Hermione tossed back two shots of the purple potion and, smiling as it raced through her veins, ran down the seven flights of stairs to freedom. Only Filch was up, and even he was groggy; he let her out of the grounds with a feeble, halfhearted glare. Hermione smiled as she passed the irritable old man, passing him a galleon for being up so early, he cheered up considerably after that. Hermione observed him as he trekked back up to the castle, waiting until he passed from sight. With a giddy giggle she pulled the shrunken form of her car from her charm bracelet. She tossed the miniaturized car to the ground, watching in satisfaction as the low riding vehicle came back to its rightful size.

Closing the canary yellow door above her* Hermione settled into the custom leather seat, gripped the wheel, and floored the gas. Hermione immediately felt better as the cars soft purr continued to put more and more room between her and those awful walls. The scenery flashed by in a whirr of green and grey. The bass of her stereo rumbled through her chest, forcing a laugh from her. The streets were empty so early in the morning, a good thing for her, so it only took minutes to reach her destination. She felt the pull the second her car pulled in the drive, an almost physical tug against her magical core, the second she felt it she envied and pitied the European wizards. Envied them because they were in all aspects of the word, free; and pitied them because they were so fragmented and weak.

"CHARM!" The over excited voice could only belong to one person.

"Razael!" Hermione cried back rushing to hug the blue haired, purple eyed girl. "Are the others up yet?"

"Yup! Of course, only because you're here, otherwise, you know them, they'd sleep till noon." Razael's voice was light, but her eyes darkened considerably as she looked at her friend. Lowering her voice she leaned closer to Hermione, "Michael had another nightmare last night, Matthew had to physically stop Cynthia from going back to find the damn bastards." The last words dripped with venom, and Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if Aaren had been restraining Razael, she knew if she had been there no one could have stopped her. She nodded.

"Where is he?" Hermione asked softly, relinquishing her hold on Razael.

"On the couch, watching cartoons, waiting for you. C'mon, don't let me keep you outside." Hermione stepped inside the house, smiling slightly as she noticed all the redecorating.

"Wow, you guys were really busy this week weren't you?"

"Yup, just wait you get to help too!" Razael said, her voice happy again. "Want something to eat? You can't have had breakfast." Hermione's stomach growled.

"Food would be good," Tom and Jerry greeted her, the idiotic cat and ridiculous mouse always trying to one up each other; one of Michael's favourites, sometimes it was hard to remember that he was only twelve. She lost track of time as they just sat there, watching that show. Until tears began dropping from the boys eyes, and his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.

Gently she pulled the smaller boy into a hug, he shuddered. "Shh, it's just me. Shh. You're HERE, they can't reach you now. You're safe now." Michael cried into her shoulder seeking comfort in the woman he saw as both a sister and a mother. "That's right, just cry. Let it all out." and he did, because this was probably the one person he didn't mind seeing him weak, because even before he had joined she had taken care of him, protected and loved him.

"We are gonna eat breakfast, then finish this house. Waddya say? I will work you so hard today you won't have time to think." He smiled at this, it was always a good option, her favorite, works so hard you couldn't think. "And then, if you still can't sleep, I will personally make you a bomber? Alright?" Michael pulled back from the hug smiling in reassurance at her. "Oh my poor baby." Hermione whispered while she wiped the tears from his face. "My poor, poor baby. There is something you must understand about the world, Osito, no matter how much we wish to, the world will not let us forget our pasts, because our pasts are what make us strong."

"Breakfast!" Footsteps made their way down the stairs some moving faster than others, one set almost silent. "How is it that I can dump ice on you people and you won't so much as twitch, but every time I say food, you're all immediately up? HUH? How is that?" Razael's voice had risen about half an octave, and held an irritated pout.

"But your food's just so GOOD." Cynthia said happily, flipping off the last stair to stand upright again. Her bright blond hair laying haphazardly around her shoulders and obscuring her left eye; her t-shirt was soft pink, clashing magnificently with her lime green mini skirt over darker rose leggings, she didn't wear shoes, instead white ribbons were wrapped around her hands and feet. Razael stuck her tongue out at her friend, her violet eyes bright with irritation.

"is that mi preciosa I hear?" A deep, slightly accented voice asked.

"Si." Hermione giggled as Aaren swept her into an all enveloping hug and kissing her forcefully. Eagerly Hermione responded to the kiss, wrapping her arms around Aaren's neck and locking her fingers in his hair.

"Ummm, excuse me, but there is a small impressionable child in the room." Cynthia said smirking as Michael glared and flipped her off.

"Miguel," Aaren warned breaking the kiss, Michael smiled back innocently. "Razael he has been spending way too much time with you." Raz smiled and Cynthia laughed.

"You're just encouraging them, hermano." Matthew said from the kitchen already eating.

"Why you little, Micheal sweetie close your little ears." Michael smiled and placed his hands over his ears so the curse words that Razael screamed at Matthew were muffled. Hermione smiled happily, laughing along with her 'family'.

"Charm." Cynthia's voice was hushed as she whispered in the other girl's ear. "THEY are sending delegates to Hogwarts." Hermione's smile vanished.

"Damn."


	4. Lesser of Two Evils

Hermione's hand immediately jumped to her heart, her fingers tightening upon her hidden scars. "Damn them. They can't come here. Not here." Tears blurred her vision, iron bands seemed to clench around her ribs, forcing her breath to become harsh and shallow.

"Mi ángel." Aaren pulled Hermione into his arms, shielding her from the world. Everyone had fallen silent, fear and anger so thick it was possible to taste them on the air. Cynthia was the first to break from her trance; gently she shook her family members until the glazed look in their eyes had retreated.

"C'mon, breakfast is getting cold." Her normally perky voice was softer and missing most of its pep. Silently the others followed, Hermione gritting her teeth to keep from screaming out. This weekend would be devoted to forgetting.

The weekend had come and gone in a blaze of improvement projects; transforming the bleak and desolate house into a home. She was back behind stone walls, the suffocation closing in again, fear climbing from its hellish hiding place to claw at her mind.

"Are you alright?" Hermione jumped, fighting her immediate instinct to turn on her heel, box the boy's ears, and run.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Hermione said, extremely careful to keep her English accent in place.

"That's good. You had me worried, you were just standing there." The boys thick Boston burr made Hermione twitch.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. It's just a little strange to think of the fact that it's finally safe here." The words burned Hermione's mouth to speak. "But where are you from? You're not from around here, are you?" Hermione asked softly, her fingers flickering against her leg in an almost imperceptible rhythm.

"No, I just got here. My Professor said that your Headmaster would introduce us at dinner."

"Then we better head up to the school then, hadn't we?" Hermione said, forcing herself to smile at the boy. He nodded; it was physically painful for Hermione to walk beside him. The walk up towards the castle seemed to last an eternity, she only lasted to the edge of the lake.

"Oh! I promised Draco that I'd play Quidditch before dinner! I completely forgot!" Like a flighty teenager she ran after the distinctive blond hair of her enemy, cringing internally at the thought of him as a savior. Sliding her arm into the crook of his she leaned and hissed in his ear. "Right now you are the lesser of two evils, pretend you're my friend until we reach the castle and I won't tell anyone about the old Dark Mark on your arm."

"My, my Granger. Blackmailing me are we?"

"Yes, yes I am. I am so sorry I forgot about Quidditch this afternoon! I was shopping for a new dress."

"What happened to all your other dresses?" Draco drawled wondering where this was going, and did Granger even own dresses?

"Oh, but they're all so formal." Hermione whined. "This one's so much more fun!" Draco watched as Hermione's eyes followed their shadow as he passed them. "Not a word to anyone, Malfoy." Hermione hissed her mask slipping, her New York accent slipping through. "Believe me, you'll regret it."

* * *

A. N. Short chapter i know. please tell me what ya think


	5. Shadows of the Past

"As Headmaster, I wish to be the first one to say welcome to our new friends. This year I am pleased to welcome exchange students from the Purity Finishing School, one of the best wizarding schools in America. Hermione felt the rush of magic, like a blast of icy wind; she felt her back stiffen and her chin tilt up in a show of pride, she met their eyes with hers.

"Thank you Mr. Dumbledore. It is wonderful to be here." A disembodied voice crooned, a dark haired woman swept to the front of the line; Hermione sat straighter, her fingers curling, nails leaving scores on the table. The compliments back and forth were just a wash to Hermione; she forced herself to eat, to ignore the girl who had sat on her left.

* * *

Hermione clutched at her rosary; the prayers rolling off her tongue as her fingers moved over the beads reverently. She prayed for her family, for the soul of her mother, for her aunt, and for just one night free from her past- from her personal hell.

Hermione trembled, her mind lost far back in the past. Her fingers sat at odd angles, pain wracked her body with an intensity that shook her to her very core, the rough stone bit into her skin, someone forced her jaw down and poured something down her throat. The potion burned drawing a small whimper from a much younger Hermione, her flaxen hair tangled and matted with dried blood; it hurt to BREATH the breath hissed and gurgled in her lungs. With a pain wracked cough blood forced its way out of her airways, but she didn't cry, she would not give them that satisfaction. Her eyes were swollen shut, only the flicker of light on her eyelids gave her any kind of comfort. The creaking of the ancient wooden door sent fear rushing into her veins, the pit of her stomach dropping into oblivion. She felt herself dropping away, flying to that safe place where nothing could hurt her.

She sat up screaming, her body immediately curling in on itself, her arms wrapping around her head to protect it. The tears came quickly, just as soon as the reality brought on by the dreams faded. Her frame shuddered as the memories assaulted her, her fingers twitched as she felt them break one by one, felt the burn of the potion down her throat; she looked down to her chest, to the pale skin marred by the ugly scars, the burns that refused to heal, where her magic sparked and glittered.

"Aaren. Aaren, mi amor, please pick up." She whimpered as she clutched the phone to her chest.

"Mi preciosa. What is it?" Aaren said softly, his voice still groggy with sleep.

"Just talk to me, por favor. Por favor." Hermione's voice cracked, her tears chocking her.

"I am here mi preciosa. I am here." Hermione felt a tug at her magical core, and arms wrapped securely around her waist. Aaren didn't say a word; gently he pulled her into his lap. Kissing her shoulder softly her whispered into her ear, she didn't even comprehend that he was speaking, just that his words seemed to seep into her mind, his soft words bringing her back into reality. She whimpered, wrapping her arms around him. It broke his heart to see her like this, his strong and fearless leona so broken. "tell me preciosa, give me their names; they won't see el sol again." His voice rumbled through his chest, the vibrations running into hers.

"No need, mi amor, they're dead." Her voice seemed empty. "They died years ago." She felt his eyes on her. "Their own damn fault, they should have figured out after the first two not to hurt me." She felt one of Aaren's arms move.

"To idiots." He said handing her a shot glass full of a smoking green liquid. With a watery laugh Hermione hooked her elbow through his so their arms were intertwined.

"May we live to see tomorrow!"With their arms still interlocked they tossed the shots back. "Love you baby." Hermione said her voice slurring immediately.

"Right back at ya, I love you too babe."

A.N. please tell me if you have any questions or anything i need to clear up! reviews welcomed flames will be used to form fire balls and throw at old homework ^_^


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